Sweet Dreams Roguey
by Bubbles1612
Summary: A romantic night for Rogue and Remy leads to a RemyLogan confrontation- ONE SHOT


Sweet Dreams Roguey  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men  
  
Summary: A romantic night for Rogue and Remy leads to a Remy-Logan confrontation.  
  
Rogue stepped onto the floor, her eyes darting about the room. Dressed in an emerald gown, gliding across the room with a nervous yet excited air about her, she found a corner in the ballroom and stood quietly awaiting something. Carefully reaching into her purse she extracted a small, thin object: A playing card. The King of hearts. Tracing the miniscule lines with her fingertips she studied the card intently. The longer she gazed at it, the clearer his face became. It wasn't long before-  
  
"Hope I'm not late, Chere," a sultry voice whispered as arms wrapped tenderly around her waist.  
  
Her voice quivered at the contact, "Na-No shugah. Yah raight on time." She spun to face him. Dressed in a classic black tuxedo, his demon red on black eyes gleaming out at her in the darkness of the ballroom, she beheld the love of her life. Her heart pounded relentlessly against her chest. Her breathing raced.  
  
"Care t' dance wit me, Chere?" he whispered, stroking her thumb gently over her gloved knuckles.  
  
"Always, Remy," she whispered back.  
  
Gently leading her out to the center of the ballroom, they stopped and Remy took her hand. Her mind raced as her drew her tightly against his chest. Though she was initially tense, she soon grew comfortable as she rocked softly with his every breath. Soothed by the low rumbles of his breathing, Rogue soon nestled her head against his chest.  
  
Releasing her hand slowly, he drew her into him completely, wrapping her body, arms and all, within his embrace. She inhaled deeply. Through the cloudy state of her mind she thickly noticed his scent was a mixture of Bourbon, cigarettes, and some musty, warm fragrance she couldn't identify. It was terribly comforting and, cradled by his arms, warmed by his grip, her eyes began to droop just as he began to sing.  
  
**"Vous êtes l'amour de ma vie. Vous êtes ma force. Vous êtes mon passé, futur...."  
  
The tender cooing of his voice served as a lullaby and Rogue could feel herself drifting into unconsciousness.  
  
"Quit it, Remy," she mumbled, stroking his chest with what was intended to be an angry jab, "Ahm fallin' asleep here."  
  
"Den go t' sleep, Petite," he assured her, stroking her hair absently, "Remy take care o' you."  
  
"Oh no yeh don't, Cajun," she yawned, "Who knows what ya'll do. I'll fall asleep now and wake up with ya in a coma in the mornin'."  
  
"Remy is shocked y' t'ink o' him dis way, Chere! Remy be a man o' honor!" he protested, amused by her response.  
  
Rogue snorted but made no further comments. She simply nuzzled herself further into the jacket of his tux. She was too tired and warm to argue and he was just too comfortable and too soft to yell at. Besides, Should he try anything and fall into a coma it would serve him right.  
  
After a few more minutes of peaceful rocking, Remy glanced down at Rogue. Her eyes, closed in quiet slumber, were delicately cradled against him and he noticed she was barely standing on her own feet.  
  
"Re'dy t' go home, Petite?" he asked, continuing a steady swaying motion.  
  
Rogue made no motion to answer, and taking her silence as a confirmation, he scooped her easily into his arms. Her head lolled gently from one side to another as he strode from the building, and she subconsciously pawed at his chest, finally settling her hands behind the folds of his coat. Remy smiled to himself. Making his way to the limo awaiting him outside, he lay her gently on the seats and ordered the driver to the Xavier Institute. Upon their arrival he gathered her once again into his arms and carried her through the estate's gateway and around the side of the building. Easily picking the lock of a servant's entrance single-handedly, he nudged the doorway open and slipped inside.  
  
He made his way through the kitchen and up the nearest stairway. Knowledge of the route to her bedroom had been born from many previous nightly excursions to the mansion and careful watch of his beloved target months before this night.  
  
'De wolverine hadn't been too happy 'bout dat.' He mused to himself.  
  
Reaching her bedroom he entered and approached her bed. He laid her down as gently as possible yet, at the sudden loss of his warmth and the absence of his deep rhythmic breaths she quietly whined and called his name.  
  
"Uhh..Remy."  
  
Pulling the sheets securely over her he stared lovingly down at her angelic form; her poisonous skin glimmering innocently in the moonlight from a nearby window. Suddenly, he was struck by a deliciously naughty desire to climb into the bed with her. But just as his fingertips sliced through the creases of the sheets a distinct *SKCNT* sound erupted from the doorway.  
  
"Back away slowly, Bub."  
  
Sighing inaudibly, Remy raised his hands in mock surrender and stepped away from the bed. Turning around slowly he came face to face with The Wolverine known as Logan.  
  
"Now I ain't gonna ask you twice; what are you doin' here?" he growled, his stocky figure framed menacingly in the doorway.  
  
Remy lowered his hands and walked over to a dresser, leaning casually against it, "Remy was jus' bringin' de Chere home, mon ami," he said easily, running a hand through his shaggy auburn hair.  
  
"You shouldn't have taken her out in the first place," Logan growled, stepping forward, his claws gleaming. Who was this punk and what interest did he have in Marie? He didn't like the looks of this guy. He was just too damn cocky.  
  
"She doesn't want or need you," Logan spat.  
  
It was at this choice moment however, that Rogue decided to stir from her slumber.  
  
"Mmm.Remy." she moaned, gripping the sheets lightly.  
  
Remy laughed softly, "Y' sure 'bout dat?"  
  
Logan snarled, "Listen, the Kid doesn't need some cocky piece of shit like you commin' along and ruinin' things. If you so much as take one step out of line you're outta here! I'll rip you three new nose holes faster than you can say gumbo! Got it!?"  
  
Remy expression was suddenly determined as he moved from the dresser and swiftly made his way over to him.  
  
"Remy be ready, mon ami," he breathed, his eyes flashing dangerously, "he's not going anywhere."  
  
The two men stared stubbornly at each other for sometime before they broke apart.  
  
Remy, turning his back on him, retraced his steps over to the dresser and placed something upon it. A card. The Queen of Hearts. Casting Logan a final cool glace he made his way over to the nearby window.  
  
"Sweet dreams, Roguey," he whispered, gliding off into the night.  
  
** You are the love of my life. You are my strength. You are my past, present, future.. 


End file.
